


A Christmas Peril

by XenomorphLiebe



Category: The Thrilling Adventure Hour
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 10:09:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8886880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XenomorphLiebe/pseuds/XenomorphLiebe
Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and, with a little help from some spirits, Frank and Sadie have discovered the meaning of Christmas, better known as booze. However, the Doyle's wassailing is interrupted by an untimely visitor, one who has no intention of bringing good tidings to the couple...





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nitpickyabouttrains](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nitpickyabouttrains/gifts).



Join Frank and Sadie Doyle as they walk beyond belief in tonight's dark episode:  _A Christmas Peril_.

High above Manhattan, in the penthouse suite of the famed Plaza Hotel, Frank and Sadie are currently getting into the spirit of Christmas, which is better known by its common name, eggnog.

Frank stands by the brick fireplace, drink in hand, idly chatting with his wife Sadie, who sits snug in a fleece blanket, basking in the glow of the crackling fire. She occasionally sips from her mug of eggnog, which, much to Sadie’s alarm, will soon be joining its empty brethren on the fireplace mantel.

To distract herself from this looming catastrophe, Sadie starts up a new topic of conversation. “I must say darling, this Christmas Eve has been much more peaceful than the last.”

“Now you mustn't say that, dear,” Frank replies with a wry grin, “or you will jinx us both and some horrid visitor will—”

A sharp knock on the apartment door cuts off his warning. The couple share a look, and Frank sighs. Another knock, louder than the first, spurs him to stride toward the door, drink still in hand.

“Yes! We heard you the first time!” Frank snaps out as he throws opens the wooden door. “Now, would you care to explain precisely  _why_  you are bothering my wife and I at this hour? On Christmas Eve, no less?”

The woman standing on the other side appears, upon first glance, to be completely insignificant, but in so being, becomes entirely noteworthy. Her hair, which is worn cropped, is a dull brown, and, besides her scuffed leather heels, the only item of clothing that she wears is her dress. Said garment is decidedly modest: the plain fabric, a dreary shade of blue, conceals her figure, and the hem extends below her ankles with the cuffs ending past her wrists. The woman’s most striking feature is her eyes, which are inexplicably a chilly brown.

Instead of answering Frank’s demand, the woman shoves past him into the Doyle’s suite, and, adding offence to the injury, she also snatches his drink right out of his unsuspecting hand.

Frank can only watch on in horror as the woman marches to the bar at the back of the room and downs her pilfered eggnog. She then slams the empty glass down on the mahogany counter top, narrowly missing Sadie’s coin purse.

Sadie, who attention has been drawn by the noise, quips, "I'd offer you a drink, but it seems you've already helped yourself."

The Doyle’s uninvited house guest looks condescendingly down at her in silence. She proceeds to the centre of the room as though she was walking on stage. After a dramatic pause, the woman announces in a shrill voice, “I am called…Maria! But you may call me, Ms. Lehmann!”

Maria surveys her audience, feigning disinterest, but scowls upon observing the Doyle's bemused expressions.

Undeterred, she tries to provoke a stronger reaction, this time shrieking, “You must help me! My children have been devoured! And—”

“Your children have been devoured?” Sadie repeats in horror.

Maria's face briefly contorts with anger before changing to delight. “Yes, yes!” she shouts, voice rising an octave on excitement, “And now I am being hunted! He is a monster! If he is not stopped, me and my children will both be dead!”

“My children and I,” Frank offhandedly corrects from the bar. After closing the apartment door, he had, in some vague hope of replacing his stolen drink, ambled over there. He now sits, sipping from a martini glass.

Maria jumps backward in shock, so caught up in her story that she had not noticed him sitting behind her.

Frank raises his glass with a smirk before elaborating, “Soon my children and I will be dead. Or, if you were speaking informally, then I suppose my children and me is also acceptable. Oh!”

The reason for his shout of triumph becomes readily clear when, grinning, he pulls up a bottle of champagne. Frank displays the bottle to his wife, who returns his smile with a nod.

Maria glares at him. “There is no time for jokes—” she begins, but any further reprimand is interrupted by Sadie.

“Oh, I assure you, proper grammar is never a laughing matter, especially for those of us in our profession,” she gestures to herself and Frank, “Supernatural beings are notoriously strict about grammar.”

Frank, who is pouring the bottle of champagne into a pair of glass flutes, hums in agreement.

In an attempt to silence Sadie, Maria levels a haughty glare at the other woman. Sadie, however, merely enigmatically smiles at her. Grimacing, Maria mutters a curse as she looks back toward Frank.

He smiles tightly at her. “Far be it from me to be rude to a guest—” He is cut off by his wife, who attempts to muffle a snort of laughter, but fails if the dirty look he sends her way is any indication.

Frank clears his throat before once again speaking, “Ahem, as I was saying. All you’ve done so far is be awfully rude to both my wife and I.” He looks pointedly at Maria. “So, to cut to the chase, when are you leaving?”

Looking wildly around her, Maria stutters for a moment before hysterically screaming, “Was sagen Sie? Ich spreche kein Englisch!” She then forces out a laugh so disturbing that Frank leans away, holding his martini glass protectively against his body.

Maria’s antics reach an end abruptly as they began. She goes to grab one of the unguarded glasses of champagne, but slowly pulls her hand away when she notices the fierce look on Frank's face. Meanwhile, Sadie gets out of her seat to peer closely at Maria.

Then, after thinking for a moment, she suggests, “Frank darling, doesn't she look as though she could use a drink? She's awfully pale and it might take the edge off her,” Sadie struggles to settle on the proper word, “ _histrionics_.”

Frank stares at his wife, his face rapidly contorting with a myriad of emotions, but, before he can utter a single word, Maria loudly agrees, “Yes, now that you mention it, a drink would do me good.”

She pauses to let a single tear slide down her cheek. “It is just, it has been so stressful— First with my husband, and then the children being devoured. I am the last! And now— Now this monster is going to—” Maria lets out a choked sob.

Sadie hushes the sobbing woman, lying a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Oh, you poor creature. If you could just tell me what this beast is called, I’m certain we could be of aid.”

“Really?” Maria looks up at her, eyes glistening with tears and hope.

Sadie nods.

“Well,” Maria begins hesitantly, “In English, I believe the word is vampire?”

“I do apologise,” Frank cuts her off, not at all apologetic, “but when it comes to the supernatural, it pays to be as specific as possible. Now, if you could please tell my wife what this creature is called in your native tongue…?”

Maria's head slowly bobs in understanding. “Yes, yes. Of course. In northern Germany, there is a story about the fate of those who end their own lives. They return from the dead and devour their own family. After my husband threw himself into the river and drowned, I knew what was coming…" She pauses dramatically before whispering in a hushed, almost reverent tone, " _Nachzehrer_ _._ "

Frank silently mouths “ _Nahk-tseer-uhr?_ ” at Sadie, who pauses to think for a moment before urgently mouthing “ _Coin. Purse._ ” Frank winks in reply, then quickly snatches the item from the bar’s counter top.

Maria does not notice the Doyle's silent exchange, however, because she is gazing at the apartment door, as though in a trance. “Finally, he is here,” she whispers as the sound of a fist slamming against wood echoes throughout the suite.

“Hmm,” Sadie muses as she walks toward the bar, “Well, Frank, it certainly sounds like someone is at the door.”

Frank looks at her in amazement. “Sadie, you know that I love you, but are you suggesting that we let in the very man who will likely be devoured by this—dammit!” He raises his hand in bid to silence any help from his wife. “If you’ll give me a chance, I know I can say it. Nach— Nachzehrer. Ha! Got it!” He smiles smugly while Sadie applauds.

“Oh, bravo! And yes, I do mean to let him in—” she is cut off by the pounding as it intensifies in volume and urgency.

The banging reaches a crescendo. In a desperate attempt to be heard, Franks yells back, “But what if Maria devours him?”

His words echo through the room as the knocking abruptly stops. For a moment, the only sound that can be heard is Frank swearing under his breath. Suddenly, Maria wrenches her gaze from the door to glare at the couple.

“So, you figured me out, hmm?” Maria snarls as she slowly stalks toward the Doyle's. “And now it sounds like you’ve scared away my prey.”

“The constantly changing state of your husband gave it away,” Frank responds to the unasked question as he offers a flute of champagne to Sadie, who is sitting beside her husband.

She accepts it with a grateful smile before turning to address Maria. “You introduced yourself to us as Ms. Lehmann, implying that  you were not married to the father of your recently deceased children. But then, in tears, you tell us that your husband was also devoured."

Sadie pauses to sip from her flute. "However, it was your final claim that your husband drowned and now hunts you as Nachzehrer that cinched it.” She pauses, letting her words sink in before continuing, “When, all along, it was actually you who had committed suicide, you who had returned from the dead, and you who had devoured your children. Then, you come here, hoping to intercept your husband before he could beg for our aid in returning you to the grave!”

At Sadie’s final pronouncement, Maria’s face turns dangerously blank. Then, baring her teeth, she slowly grins at the Doyle’s. “If you know all this,” she bites out, “then what are you waiting for?”

“The perfect opportunity,” Frank replies with a smirk. Then, feeling rather cheeky, he takes a long sip of champagne. As he does, unbeknown to Maria, he slips the coin purse to his wife with his other hand.

Enraged, Maria lets out a wordless cry as she lunges for him, but, Sadie grabs a quarter out of her purse and tosses it  into the attacker’s gaping mouth. Immediately, Maria falls to the floor, and, with hack, she wraps her hands around her throat as she chokes on the coin. The apartment soon falls quiet as Maria's coughs grow weaker until finally stopping altogether.

The Doyle’s look silently at her corpse and then each other.

“Well…” Frank says.

“Hmm…” Sadie concurs.

The sit in silence for a moment longer, quietly ranking this Christmas Eve amongst all the others.

“I must say, this is the fourth worst Christmas Eve I’ve ever had the displeasure of experiencing,” Frank proclaims as his wife declares, “Of all the Christmas Eve’s I have had the dubious joy of living through, I can safely say, that at the very least, this is the ninth worst.”

At Frank’s questioning look, she attempts to justify herself. "I refuse to spend another Christmas Eve disposing of a corpse. And that’s all I’ll say on the matter.”

Punctuating the remark, she crosses her arms with a huff. She then looks down at the body on the floor. “Speaking of corpses, what are we going to do about hers?”

Franks pauses for a minute before hesitantly suggesting, “Perhaps we could just…" He gestures vaguely with his hand, "throw a rug over her?”

Sadie raises her eyebrow at her husband. "Your proposal intrigues me, darling. Please, continue."

Frank quickly amends, “Just until her husband comes back for the body.”

He waits silently as Sadie strokes her chin in consideration. Then, suddenly, she beams at her husband before crying out, “Why Frankenstein, you absolute genius!”

“I am rather clever, aren’t I?” Frank smugly agrees.

“Although…” his gaze shifts to Sadie, “You aren’t half bad yourself, Sadistic.”

After laying her champagne flute down gently, Sadie rests her chin against her fist and squints at Frank, considering him. Suddenly, Frank finds himself with the urge to jump to his feet, which he does, before hurrying into the next room.

As he half-jogs, half-walks over there, Frank calls out over his shoulder, “I guess I’ll see to that rug now, hmm darling?”

Sadie attempts to stifle her smile, but can’t, and by the time Frank returns with the rug, her small grin has become a full blown giggling fit. Carelessly tossing the rug over Maria as he passes by, Frank strides over to her. Then, with an adoring smile, he pulls his wife into his arms and soundly kisses her. Sadie’s giggles swiftly change to moans, and after several pleasurable minutes, the two break apart breathlessly.

As she looks over Frank’s shoulder, Sadie notices the time on the clock. “Twelve oh’ three a.m.? Merry Christmas, darling! What do you say to a toast?” She offers his flute of champagne to him.

Frank accepts it, taking the glass from her with a confused smile. “You know that I never turn down the chance to drink, darling, but…” He lets out a brief and awkward laugh, “What exactly are we toasting to?”

Sadie grins at him, a teasing glint in her eye. “Haven’t you guessed, dear? To the swift departure of such a dreadful house guest!”

“I’ll toast to that!” Frank cries. With a  _*clink*_ the couple bring the rims of their drinks together. Then, with twin expressions of joy, the pair down their champagne with an audible  _glug_.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> In the traditional myth, in order to slay a Nachzehrer, one is supposed to lay a coin on its tongue, then cut off its head. I thought it would be funnier if she choked on the coin, and decapitation is more up the Winchester’s alley than the Doyle’s anyways.
> 
>  **Translation of the German:**  
>  Was sagen Sie? Ich spreche kein Englisch! ( _What are you saying? I don't speak English!_ )
> 
> I’m still very much a beginner when it comes to German, so I apologise for any mistakes.
> 
> **edited 25/01/2017 to fix German**


End file.
